


chiquitita

by crimsvn



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Non-Famous, Based on an ABBA Song, First Meetings, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, M/M, Mamma Mia - Freeform, Meet-Cute, Neighbors, One Shot, Pre-Slash, Sort Of, here i go again, inspired by a tiktok, possibly getting together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-04
Updated: 2020-12-04
Packaged: 2021-03-09 19:02:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27871233
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crimsvn/pseuds/crimsvn
Summary: 3:22 A.M.It was 3:22 A.M., and for the fifth night in a row, George's upstairs neighbour was blasting Mamma Mia. And while George could appreciate some ABBA from time-to-time, whoever lived upstairs needed to change it up, andsoon.Other musicals existed.So many other musicals existed.
Relationships: Clay | Dream & GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 7
Kudos: 304





	chiquitita

**Author's Note:**

> i don't know. how to develop a Relationship. open endings for days babey
> 
> oh yeah also this is based on a tiktok: "pov: ur my neighbour and i am watching mamma mia for the 3rd time this week and u finally know the words now" (@/starwarsfangirlxoxo)

_3:22 A.M._

It was 3:22 A.M., and for the fifth night in a row, George's upstairs neighbour was blasting Mamma Mia. And while George could appreciate some ABBA from time-to-time, whoever lived upstairs needed to change it up, and _soon._ Other musicals existed. _So many other musicals existed._

Especially since George was starting to remember the words and was _maybe_ starting to sing along. Which was definitely not something George was proud of. He wasn't getting over any sort of heartbreak, so there was no need for him to know the words to _Chiquitita,_ alright? 

And normally George was not a confrontational person, however, he did cherish what little sleep he ran on, and he refused to sit through one more night of the entire search for Sophie's real father. So out of bed he got, tossed on some shoes, and off he went to criticize some poor person's movie tastes. George thinks to himself that it's an absolute miracle that other tenants hadn't complained about the noise yet—at least to his knowledge. Maybe they had and his neighbour didn't care, or maybe George was the only one being tortured by it.

He trudges up the stairs to the floor above, marching up to the door of apartment 3F, which was right above his respective 2F. He raises his fist and knocks politely once. He waits a minute, then raps the door a second time, only more aggressively. He cringes at the volume, not wanting to wake anyone else on the floor, but so be it. George wanted to go back to bed as soon as possible.

George is about to start knocking a third time when the door is swung open. Revealed is... _not_ who George would have expected to be watching Mamma Mia in the middle of the night. For several nights in a row.

He was tall, and blond, and had the nicest blue eyes—though perhaps George was biased, what with his colourblindness. George was at a loss for words.

"Can I help you?" His neighbour asks, and George may as well just melt at his voice. It was so nice, and— _why was he here again?_

"I-I, um," George stammers out, unable to think. He blames it on the hour. "Your, uh, your movie. It's loud. It's, ah—would you mind turning it down maybe?"

The neighbour blinks, obviously having not expected George's complaint. He nods slowly. "Yeah, sure, that's—that's no problem. I'm sorry, I didn't realize—"

George shakes his head, shrugging a shoulder. "It's no problem. It might be just because I live right below you. Though, I—I'm kinda concerned that you've been watching nothing but Mamma Mia for the past five days. That's, uh. It's a bit weird, man."

The blond goes beet red and ducks his head. He kicks at the floor. "I, uh. I'm sorry about that. Didn't think it was too loud. Or that anyone would notice. That I've been watching it. Over and over again. I'll just—you look tired. I'll... I'll just go turn it down. Sorry."

George flashes him a tired, yet polite smile. "Like I said, no problem. Have a good night, uh—"

"Dream," his neighbour offers. 

"Dream," George echoes. He holds out a hand. "I'm George."

Dream takes it, shaking once. George can't help but notice how much larger Dream's hand was than his. "Nice to meet you, George. Sorry about the circumstances."

George waves a dismissive hand. "Don't worry about it. Just find something else to watch, for the love of god."

They both laugh, and it's only then that George remembers where they are at that time. He is quick to hush himself, taking a nervous glance down the hall. They bid each other goodnight, Dream apologizing once more before gently shutting the door. George finds himself staring at the brass _3F_ for a moment longer after he hears the _click!_ of the lock on the other side before he retreats back to his own apartment.

That had certainly been... _an_ experience. Dream seemed nice, but George couldn't help but kick himself for being outright about his movie criticism. He wasn't exactly proud of his first impression, but it wasn't the worst thing ever. He has had _far worse_ interactions with people over the course of his life. That had been nothing, really. Embarrassing, if anything.

True to his word, Dream turns down the movie, and George is able to get some rest without any further disturbance. The newfound silence feels a bit odd at first, but as he's drifting off to sleep, he can't find it in himself to care. 

George ends up sleeping in, though not like it mattered—it was a Saturday after all, so instead of worrying about any classes or assignments he may have, George opts to laze about, decreasing his productivity of the day to about _zero._ He had just (finally) gotten off from a good night's rest—he wasn't going to tarnish his mood anytime soon.

George is only truly made aware that he's still in his pyjamas when there's a knock at the door around 2 P.M., which was odd, as he hadn't been expecting any visitors. He contemplates quickly changing into proper clothes, then he considers not answering at all, but eventually decides on, _fuck it, what do I have to lose._

He swings open the door and is faced by Dream. The latter seems shrunken in on himself, be it awkwardness or discomfort, but he's holding a Tupperware of—

"Are those cookies?" George asks. The question probably came off as a bit rude, but George doesn't have half a mind to scold himself for it.

Dream looks down at the container self-consciously. His face burns a dusty pink. "I—yeah. It's... an apology, I guess? For the noise? I just have a terrible sleep schedule and for whatever reason Mamma Mia is the only thing on at that hour that's mildly interesting. Wait, _shit._ I hope you don't have any allergies. I should have checked—I'm sorry, I'm being really forward, aren't I?" He rambles.

"Just a bit. I appreciate it, though." George gives a short laugh. Then, in a fit of bravery, "Here, come in, if you want. Instead of standing out in the hall like a weirdo."

Dream looks skeptical. "You don't have to... I mean, you can just take the container and I can be out of your hair. I kinda made a shitty first impression, what with the... y'know..."

"I never said you had—"

"—I just don't want to overstep—"

"—nonsense. Just... come in, Dream," George says with an air of finality. He wasn't certain where the courage had come from, but he wasn't prepared to let go of it just yet. "I need you to eat a cookie in front of me anyways. Wanna make sure they're not poisoned or something."

George can almost see the cogs turning in Dream's head as he registers George's joke. It might have been considered bold to some, but George felt it was a step needed to clear the tension. He was _feeling_ bold. A smile slowly creeps its way onto Dream's face, lighting up his features. 

Dream quirks an eyebrow. "Why would I poison them?"

"To get rid of the noise complaint so you can go back to Mamma Mia at three A.M. without issues. Until the next tenant moves in and you pull the same stunt," George conspires teasingly. "I never did ask the landlord about who lived here before me."

"Only another victim of my poisoned baked goods," Dream jokes. His expression softens into sincerity. "You're sure?"

The corners of George's lips curve upwards. "Of course. It's a mess, though. Wasn't expecting a guest."

Dream snorts. "Well you haven't seen _my_ apartment yet."

_Yet._ The words sends a shock of mild surprise through George, but not necessarily in a bad way. He kind of liked to think they'd get to know each other well enough for that. George certainly wouldn't be opposed.

"You're right," George agrees. "I haven't. And judging you based off your movie watching habits..."

Dream hangs his head in a sort of defeat. "Damn, thought you might've forgotten about that."

George shakes his head. "I never forget. And I'm going to bring it up until the day I die. Need I introduce you to literally _any_ other movie franchise? Or did you just really need some ideas on figuring out who your real dad is?"

"I told you, it just happens to be the only thing on that I have some interest in watching," Dream insists. "And _maybe_ the songs are good. But I know who my father is, thank you very much."

George had barely noticed that they had moved further into the apartment. Dream leaves the Tupperware on George's (messy, maybe he should have cleaned) counter. "You are the singlehanded cause of my knowing the lyrics to nearly every song of that soundtrack, you should know. I'd say forgive and forget but I don't plan on doing either. I think I hate you, actually."

Dream grins. "And yet you still invited me in."

"Yeah," George says quietly, faintly nodding. "Guess I did."

"You did," Dream confirms. "So."

George frowns. "I think I'm regretting it now, though. Good thing you're cute."

George immediately slaps a hand over his mouth, eyes bugging and face blooming a bright pink. He hadn't meant to say that out loud, and by the looks of it, Dream hadn't expected it either—he was sporting an equally as fierce blush.

"You think I'm cute?" Dream asks. His voice cracks.

George clears his throat, trying to school his own surprise, debating his answer. Regardless, he had already dug himself a hole. "I do."

"Oh, well." Dream huffs out an awkward laugh. "I think you're cute, too."

"I feel like there's more appropriate situations for this. Like one where I'm not in my pyjamas. And you're not apologizing for watching Mamma Mia in the middle of the night with cookies. There's a lot of things that I think should be different about this," George prates on. 

"I don't know," Dream opposes. "I think this situation is just fine."

"You think?"

Dream smiles, and it's shy, yet self-assured. "I do."

**Author's Note:**

> i am just a Beast at pumping out these fics. watch me go
> 
> working on sumn bigger too :) <3
> 
> (but i do want to reiterate that i don't rly ship them lmao,, i simply write these for people who want to read them :D -- and if ever you want to say hi, i also have a [tumblr](https://criimsvn.tumblr.com/)!)


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